


Shit Neighbor

by chronicallyCritical



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Art School, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-05 01:55:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6684559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chronicallyCritical/pseuds/chronicallyCritical
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heero Yuy is in art school, which he never could have imagined was going to happen. Duo Maxwell likes him, which he wasn't expecting either. Art school AU oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shit Neighbor

**Author's Note:**

> save me from myself...I thought an art school AU would be cute! Warning for alcohol.

As fair as dorm rooms went, this one wasn't particularly messy, though it was hard to tell in the dark. There was, however, a sense that the only reason it wasn't entirely strewn with debris was that school had only been in session for a week. The loud music blaring from some admittedly pretty decent speakers and the group of a dozen or so teenagers crammed between the beds in a space the size of the average bathroom bouncing more-or-less to the beat were likely responsible for this impression.

Heero leaned back into the cinderblock wall, stretching his legs out across a bed that wasn't his as he nursed a solo cup full of some technicolored drink daring to call itself "wine," a designation which even Heero's vastly inexperienced boozing senses could tell was being applied as loosely as was humanly possible to do so. He was not the only occupant of the bed, as a couple of feet down from him was another boy, seated in the same rather defeated position sans the solo cup, arms crossed. Heero did not know him by name but recognized him as one of the room's (and likely the bed's) rightful owners. Heero eyed him blandly through the slight haze of a third helping of whatever alcohol he'd been provided with.

"This is the second time he's done this and it's the first week of school," hissed the boy with the air of one who has been waiting a long, agonizing time to complain about something.

"Who?"

"Who the hell do you think? My roommate!" He uncrossed his arms momentarily to jab an accusatory finger into the writhing mass of inebriated bodies. The air was thickening with the sickly-sweet, slightly burned-smelling vapor from someone's e-cigarette.

Heero didn't bother to point out that the boy had just aimed at all of them, as he remembered which of the jumping figures was the other owner of this room: the loud, slightly scrawny one with a waist-length braid and black clothes.

"What's his name? My roommate is here because one of your roommate's friends invited him over here. Then he invited me." Heero was vaguely aware that the booze had loosened his tongue; he was speaking more than he usually did. Monosyllabic responses had always served him well, but for once they weren't cutting it. Or at least, it seemed like they weren't.

"Christ, people are asking for his name before mine now. You're the second person to do that today. He's Duo Maxwell and I'm Wufei Chang." Heero squinted at him; the only light was coming from a garland of tiny colored bulbs hung above the other bed and from the screen of someone's laptop on the desk. Wufei wasn't particularly tall, and he had neat shoulder-length black hair and big glasses. His face would probably have been handsome if not wrinkled in mild disgust, Heero noted.

"I'm Heero Yuy. My roommate is..." Heero attempted to point at one of the kids performing some approximation of dancing but failed. "The tall one. Trowa Barton." In this moment, his roommate was no longer dancing and had instead leaned back against the other bed, drink in his hand as he chatted with a kid about a foot shorter than him who was dressed entirely in pastels.

"Oh, him. I said hi to him before and he just kind of stared and then said the quietest, most apathetic 'hi' I've ever heard."

"He's just shy," defended Heero for reasons he wasn't drunk enough to explain. He'd barely exchanged a paragraph's worth of words with his new roommate, but he could definitely respect someone who didn't pry and who understood the value of a good, comfortable silence. Most silence was comfortable to Heero.

"Not to my suitemate," pointed out Wufei, frowning at the kid Trowa was talking to.

"Oh yeah, he's the one who asked Trowa to come over here. And then he brought me over," Heero added, mostly aware of the fact that Wufei probably didn't care. "He seems nice. I wouldn't have come if he hadn't seemed friendly. He looks too innocent for this...party" (here, the word "party" was said with some doubt as to its true capability of being applied here). "Like, I wasn't expecting this to be the thing he asked Trowa to go to." He wasn't sure what he had expected, but it wasn't this.

"Quatre's just a different flavor of twink than Duo," explained Wufei, in the most deadpan voice Heero had ever heard someone use the word "twink". "He likes to party just as much as Duo. He just hides it better. His parents don't even suspect that he knows what alcohol besides the champagne at weddings smells like."

Heero hadn't consciously assumed that the kid Trowa was talking to was gay, but it did make sense. He had assumed that his roommate was, given that he'd applied for LGBT housing, though neither he nor Trowa had mentioned it upon meeting or in the five or so sentences they'd exchanged since. Heero squinted out into the tiny crowd. Duo was hunched over the laptop just two or three feet from the bed on which Heero was sitting to change the music to something slightly different and mercifully more melodic but no less loud. His short tank top had slid up and was exposing an inch of his midriff. Enough of Heero's self-consciousness had evaporated, courtesy of the booze, that he could admit to himself that he was enjoying the view at least a little. Duo straightened up and turned, now facing Heero, who had just noticed the little silver cross in Duo's bellybutton. There was probably something sacrilegious about that, though Heero didn't know enough about religion to explain why or to care much. The little cross disappeared under his shirt, and the shirt moved closer. Having finished the third decent-sized helping of fortified wine, Heero took a second to realize that Duo was looking at him.

"Hey, you're not dancing. I've come to expect that kind of thing from Wufei, but not from someone who would actually choose to be here," Duo commented with derision in Heero's direction. His face was delicate, Heero noted, with tiny freckles barely visible in the glow of the laptop. Wisps of hair had escaped from his braid and framed his face. A tacky little skull dangled from his right ear.

"You've known me for a week," responded Wufei indignantly.

"A week is long enough. Besides, I was talking to him," Duo added, gesturing toward Heero.

"I don't know how to dance," replied Heero. "And I don't really want to."

"Nobody here does," Duo responded bluntly. His words rang with truth.

"Yes, but I don't want to."

"How are you having fun if you're just sitting there?" Duo asked pointedly. "Why bother being here? Besides my alcohol."

"It's not very good," commented Heero, who hadn't ever drunk much before but could at least tell that much.

"It really isn't," agreed Duo, taking a sip from the bottle of the orange drink. "Which one did you get?"

"The red one."

"The orange one is way better," Duo stated, proffering the bottle. "I can't believe you've had three cups of 'Red Banana'. No wonder you don't want to dance."

"You just drank out of it," argued Heero. "I don't want it now."

"So did most of the rest of the room," Duo added helpfully.

Heero cringed. "I don't want your germs. Or everyone else's."

"Alcohol is a disinfectant," Duo said. "You'll be fine."

"That wouldn't work for the entire rim of the bottle," Heero argued back.

"Do you want my booze or not?" Duo asked with a tone of finality.

Heero blinked, paused, and reached for the bottle and tentatively took a sip. "You're right, this is better than the red stuff."

"Are you gonna dance now?" Duo asked.

Heero frowned and handed back the bottle. "'Orange Jubilee' isn't that tolerable."

"Too bad," Duo replied with exaggerated sadness.

Heero took another sip from the bottle and handed it back to Duo without a word. Duo frowned but returned to his somewhat rhythmic jumping, which was a much more accurate descriptor of the movements at this event than "dancing". Heero pulled his phone from his pocket and checked his schedule. If he went to bed now, he could still get six and a half hours of sleep. He climbed down from the bed to tell Trowa he was leaving, though he reconsidered telling Trowa anything when he realized that his roommate was busy kissing the pastel kid, who, Heero noted with mild amusement, had to sit on the high dorm bed for his mouth to reach. A brief wave from Duo caught his eye.

"Hey, whatever your name is, see you tomorrow! Sleep well!" Duo called with benevolence in his voice that Heero hadn't expected. He'd interpreted Duo's previous comments as teasing, but his fuzzy brain realized with some surprise that Duo had probably been nice to him totally seriously.

"Good night," he replied. With a sudden twinge of guilt at his previous curtness, he added, "Thanks for the drinks!"

"Anytime," replied Duo. "Or like, when I have alcohol."

Heero snorted and returned to his own blissfully quiet room, where he took off his clothes and folded them neatly, set his alarm, and crawled into the inviting warmth of his bed.

* * *

Heero was awoken by his alarm, pleased to find that he felt surprisingly decent. He opened his eyes and craned his neck toward the other bed. Trowa was squinting at him blearily. "I don't have class till eleven thirty," he informed Heero bluntly.

"Oh. Sorry for waking you. So you...didn't...score last night?" Heero asked awkwardly.

"Nah, but we've got a date. We're gonna have a jam session."

"You make music?" Heero was entirely unsurprised that he knew so little about his roommate.

"Yeah. I play the flute. He plays the violin."

Heero laughed. "I thought you meant like, rock music or something. I thought that was what 'jam session' implied."

"Well, he's gonna show me his electric violin. We'll have fun." Trowa's tired voice did not make this sound fun, but he seemed sincere.

"I still think it's funny that those exist," commented Heero as he grabbed his shampoo and towel.

"I'm going back to sleep." With that, Trowa turned so that he was entirely face-down and became completely still. Heero tiptoed into the bathroom, took an impressively efficient shower, and made his way to his first two-dimensional design class.

The streets wrapped around Sanq's most prominent art college were busy and smelled like cigarettes, vaping, and the occasional pungent whiff of marijuana. With orientation over, Heero was getting used to his school's atmosphere, but it was still a jarring change from living in the colonies.

He found the appropriate building and classroom on the early side of "on time" when only a few other people had arrived. He found a decent-looking seat and placed his bag on the floor. Heero wasn't a habitual coffee drinker, but for some reason he craved it this morning, and he cursed himself for forgoing breakfast in favor of a shower.

In the next five minutes, nearly every other student and the teacher arrived. In the moments before the teacher began to take attendance, one last student walked in. Duo Maxwell was wearing dark jeans with fraying holes at the knees and a shirt featuring a band Heero didn't mind not recognizing. His hair was wet and pulled back tightly into a braid like that of the previous night. His thin face was cheerful but tired-looking. He caught Heero's eye and smiled, sitting not directly across from him but close enough for conversation that probably wouldn't happen.

Attendance was taken. Heero paid attention to a long speech about typography, sharp craft knife blades, glue, and exporting files and took notes meticulously. He noted that Duo appeared to be paying no attention at all and was instead drawing concentric circles all over his sketchbook. Heero was interested in the class, but not really enough to be completely immersed or to ignore his now-grumbling stomach. When the teacher announced a twenty-minute break, he stood with uncharacteristic speed and left the building to go to the nearest cafeteria. About half of the class went with him, Duo included.

Duo caught up with him and grinned. "How are you feeling after last night?"

"Fine. I didn't drink that much," said Heero flatly.

"You can't have gotten that much sleep, though! I feel like shit," Duo shared casually and cheerfully.

"Sorry," replied Heero, unsure of what he was meant to do with that information. "And honestly, I'm used to not getting that much sleep."

They had made it to the cafeteria. Heero left Duo to get breakfast. After paying, he sat alone at a small table. A moment later, Duo appeared, balancing a large coffee, fries, and a hamburger.

"Mind if I sit with you?"

"Go ahead," conceded Heero. "A hamburger for breakfast?"

"It's brunch," corrected Duo with false severity.

"What do you think of the class so far?" Heero asked.

"It seems okay. I already know a lot of graphic design principles so I feel like I'll be fine."

"Is that why you weren't taking notes? The stuff she was talking about was pretty specific to the class."

"Didn't have to. I remember things really well," Duo replied, biting into his hamburger. After chewing for a moment, he added, "I used to take notes but then I stopped out of laziness and nothing actually changed."

"I'm jealous, replied Heero mildly. Duo laughed a little.

"What major are you thinking of going into?" Duo asked with what Heero thought was genuine curiosity.

"Industrial design. What about you?"

"I want to double major in architecture and sculpture."

"That sounds like a lot of work," commented Heero.

"Oh, it will be. I might just drop out after like a semester and lose control of my entire life," Duo said, not sarcastically in the least.

"Don't do that," advised Heero.

"I got into a glassblowing course; maybe I can just learn to make bongs and survive off of that."

"That sounds awful."

"I know, right? I think I'll be okay, though. I don't really know how I ended up in art school, anyway," Duo said, sighing with self-aware drama.

"What do you mean? You definitely, uh, fit in," said Heero, motioning vaguely toward him.

"Yeah, I guess, but I actually thought I'd end up in a tech school. I wanted to design shit like planes or space shuttles or ocean liners. Or build huge engines."

"Why didn't you end up doing that?" Heero asked curiously.

"I guess I didn't really feel like I'd fit in all that well at a tech school. They're nerdy, I'm kind of nerdy, but it just seemed like it wouldn't quite work out, you know? Besides," he added theatrically, "I'm sensitive. I want to become a Master of the Arts." His intonation quite clearly implied capitalization. "Anyways, I think I'd always wanted to do art and I was probably kidding myself into thinking I wanted to do what I saw as the next best thing."

"I know how you feel, actually. I'm a transfer student. I felt weird at a tech school so...I ended up here." Heero was a little nostalgic, but not a lot.

"Huh. You actually seem like you'd fit right in at a tech school. Are you good with computers?"

"Yeah," Heero replied. "Good enough that it's probably a waste that I'm not pursuing it."

"Modest, too!" Duo added with good-natured sarcasm. "Weird how?"

"Well, it's true," Heero replied, bashful yet indignant. "And as for the weird stuff, I guess it was more complicated than just school."

"Oh, so there was drama!" Duo exclaimed with delight.

"It wasn't that bad, I guess. I just had a lot going on and I broke up with my girlfriend and I realized that maybe I didn't really want to spend my entire existence hunched over a computer instead of living my life. And everything I did seemed kind of fake, like I was only doing it because I felt like I had to." This was more words said consecutively than Heero had spoken in months, and he immediately felt vulnerable. Duo's next words merely added to this.

"So like, did you realize you were gay or something?" Heero would have expected his tone to be conspiratorial, but Duo had grown serious.

"Huh? How'd you guess?" Heero asked with shock.

"Don't worry, I can relate to feeling like that," Duo reassured him. It didn't work very well. "Was it that bad of a breakup?"

"Not really. We're still friends." Relena was an admittedly excellent friend and had taken it like a champ when Heero had broken up with her a week after they first had sex and cried unceremoniously into her shirt.

"That's always nice! So switching schools was more about wanting a change of scenery?"

Heero pondered this for a moment. "Yeah, probably. It just seemed like the right thing to do."

Duo glanced at his phone. "Shit, class starts in two minutes." He stood quickly to and Heero followed suit.

Class ended without further ado, and Heero was left to marvel at his own ineptitude at judging between fonts.

"Hey," he heard, Duo's voice now familiar. "Do you want to walk back with me?"

"Sure," Heero replied, shoving his craft knife into the nearest eraser and placing his pencils into his bag. "Just a second."

"No problem."

Heero stood and stretched. "God, these long studio classes are going to suck."

"No shit. The chairs and tables are just high enough in here to give you a backache," grumbled Duo in agreement.

"Fuck, now that you've mentioned it my back is killing me. Thanks." They made their way from the classroom to the crosswalk.

"Sorry. At least we'll suffer together," Duo replied, theatrically rubbing his own back.

In their building, Heero pressed the elevator button and leaned back. When it beeped and indicated their floor, Heero and Duo stepped out. Heero found himself following Duo to his room.

"What's with coming with me?" Duo laughed.

"Sorry, I forgot. It's been a long day."

"It hasn't been that long. Anyways, I don't mind." Duo turned to face him. "Heero, are you used to people being really forward with you?" he asked suddenly.

Heero reflected briefly, ignoring how odd the question was. "No," he replied honestly.

"Do you want to go out with me? I think you're cute." Duo's voice was friendly, deadpan, appealing.

Heero paused, eyes widening.

"It's fine if you don't want to."

Heero was ready to say no as he glanced over Duo's fine features and long, soft-looking hair. Something stopped him—curiosity or loneliness. Both. Duo's freckled, smooth bare arms, and his inquisitive stare.

"Yeah," breathed Heero in a burst of unpredicted courage and fascination. "You know what? I'd like to."

"Coffee tomorrow?" Duo asked casually.

Heero spoke quickly before he could back out. "Yeah. I'd like that."

"It's a date then," replied Duo, smiling broadly. "Go do your homework, Heero."

Heero gave a rare smile. "Fine," he laughed. "But you've got to do yours too."


End file.
